They Bring Me To You
by thismidnight
Summary: Nick's trying to get June out of the country with their baby. Told in three parts, starting with the day the baby is born and ending on the night they try to get out of Gilead. June x Nick.
1. for all the places i have been

_**for all the places i have been, i'm no place without you**_

 _and only the heartaches have given me sight_

 _they bring me to you_

It's raining the day the baby is born.

He hadn't known exactly when it was going to happen, but the nervous energy in the house for the last week led him to believe it would be happening, and sooner than he wanted to think about. Because if it was time for the baby to be here, it just meant he'd spent the better part of a year trying to get June away from here and he'd accomplished nothing. She's still here, and now the baby will be too.

So when he steps into the kitchen early one rainy fall morning and hears Serena Joy murmuring to Rita something about calling the other Wives and Aunts as he shakes the water off his boots, he knows. And it takes every bit of will power he has not to blow past the two of them into the house to be with June.

He hasn't gotten to see or even speak with her much in the past few months, so that makes not being able to be with her now even worse. He remembers the last time they really got to talk, the day he'd arranged for her to be taken out of the house. He'd hated how he had to arrange it, to have her loaded into the back of a black van, but it was the only way he knew how. They'd brought her into an interrogation room and he hated that too, but he couldn't change it without raising suspicion. What he could change, though, was her situation. He'd cashed in every favor anyone owed him and he'd arranged a way out for her, a way to Canada. But she'd turned him down.

Her daughter was still here, she told him. That's where Serena Joy had taken her the day before, she'd seen her. And she couldn't leave for Canada knowing she was still here. He'd promised up and down that he'd get her too, he'd do whatever it took but still, she stood her ground. Most times he admired her defiant personality and strong will, but that day he wished she would have just caved and accepted his offer. She promised him she'd be able to manage, that she'd survive, and he didn't doubt her. She was stronger than he'd ever be, but he also remembered cutting the last handmaid down from the ceiling. He'd tried a few times to convince her to leave, but she held firm. He could help, she insisted, by helping her find Hannah, by getting her to safety first, or at least with them.

So the plan switched gears. They'd spent the rest of that day with June giving him as much information as she could about Hannah. He'd asked her to describe who had driven her and Mrs. Waterford that day, how long the drive took, what the building looked like, who she'd seen, Hannah's full name, birth date, did she remember any of the characters on the license plate of the car they'd been in? He gathered as much relevant information as he could before June went back to the house two days later and he set out trying to solve this new puzzle.

It had been more difficult than he anticipated. Much more difficult. He'd located the boarding school where Hannah stayed relatively quickly and it had given him a false hope, hope that this would all be behind them within a few weeks, before June was even showing. But locating her was only part of the solution. The rest of it was where he had stalled, and had been stalled for better part of the year - getting her out of the country. Weeks had turned to months and he still had nothing but leads that all eventually led to dead ends.

The worst part of the whole situation, he finds himself thinking as he makes his way slowly into the kitchen, trying to figure out what's happening without being in the way, is that he's had no way to tell June he's even made any progress. Since the day she got back to the house, they've had almost no time to see or speak to each other. He figured this would happen, since Serena Joy had seen them together that morning in the kitchen, the day June told him she was pregnant, and he hadn't been wrong. She had gone out of her way to keep them apart, even going so far as to install a lock on June's bedroom door, so she couldn't sneak out to him at night. He always figured he could pop the lock and go to her, but inevitably he always decided it wasn't worth it. His own selfish desire to see her and be with her wasn't worth it if Serena Joy found out because it would mean June would pay for it somehow. They really only saw each other in passing now, looks passed between them as they desperately tried to communicate with each other outside the confines of the robotic, formal greetings that were prescribed of them.

He creeps out of the kitchen and down the hall into the house, which is surprisingly quiet now. His eyes dart down the hallway, to the room where he knows June will be. No one is around. He's already driven the Commander to work for the day, and he suspects Serena Joy is up in her room making calls. He's not sure where Rita is, but she won't rat them out. Without another thought, he turns to head to June. He needs to see her, she needs to know he's here, especially now. He just wants to talk to her.

He hasn't even taken two steps when someone grabs his arm and he stops in his tracks.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Rita hisses at him as she pulls him back. He doesn't know what he was thinking because he wasn't. He swallows hard as he looks at her and she knows.

"Nick, I know you want to be, but you can't be in here," she says urgently, her voice low, as her eyes dart around, no doubt she's looking for Mrs. Waterford. She leads him back into the kitchen. "People are going to be here any minute. You're the driver. If you're in here hanging around, they'll start asking questions."

He blinks rapidly and looks down at the ground. She's right. Men aren't a part of this.

"I'll keep you updated," she promises, "but it'll be easier for everyone if you lay low." He looks up at her and nods. He understands. She touches his arm, reassuring him that she'll keep her word, before turning to head back into the house. He lingers for a few more minutes before heading back out into the rain, down to the driveway and up to his apartment.

He doesn't really know what to do, he left his mind back in the house and it might as well be a million miles away for how disconnected he feels from it right now. After a long moment, though, he gathers himself. He can't be with June right now, so he might as well do some more planning. He reaches behind his bookcase and pulls out the file folder he keeps there, full of maps and intel. The third piece to this, after getting to Hannah and getting her out, is getting them out, and he needs to be prepared for that too. He spreads the maps and papers all over the small work table he has and sits down.

The route planning ends up being a welcome distraction. He throws himself so deep into it that when he looks up and catches a glimpse of the red van pulling up in the driveway, watching as handmaids file out of it one by one, it sends him crashing back into reality. This is happening. It's really happening. He forgets everything on the table and moves to the door, staring hard at the house through the window. He puts his hand on the doorknob and starts tapping one finger anxiously against it. He promised Rita he'd stay away but surely he could go back into the kitchen, make himself some tea and try to at least hear if everything is okay from there. He turns the knob halfway before he stops himself. Rita had promised she'd update him, and no news is good news, right? He sighs heavily and looks at his watch.

Shit. He has to go get the Commander. He doesn't want to leave, but again, he knows it'll be a distraction. He pulls on his jacket and heads out into the rain. He has to force his feet to carry him into the garage and to the car and not into the house, and once he's in the car he drives the whole way there and back on autopilot, responding to the Commander's chatter from the backseat with simple answers, just enough to have him think he's engaged. Yes, sir. No, sir. Sounds like a tough call, sir.

They arrive back at the house almost an hour later, the drive taking longer than usual due to the rain that was blinding at times, and the red van is still parked in the driveway. Nick tries not to let jealousy overtake him as Fred walks up the steps and into the house. He knows he's not going to be with June, and instead he'll go close himself in his office, away from everything, but still. He hates him so much he can barely stand it. He trudges back up the steps and into his apartment and again, he doesn't feel like he knows what to do. This is the last place he wants to be.

Hours pass and the sun goes down and nothing seems to hold his attention. He works for a little longer before he realizes he's just been staring at the same section of the map and not doing anything. The same thing happens when he tries to read. He can't concentrate on anything, so eventually he just decides to shower and lay down in bed, thinking maybe he can at least shut his brain off for a few minutes and sleep. He swears he's only just shut his eyes when a series of sharp raps on his door jolts him upright. His heart starts pounding as he crosses the floor of his apartment.

He opens the door and isn't surprised to see Rita standing there, an umbrella in one hand and a plate of food in the other. She thrusts the plate at him. He's not hungry, hasn't been all day, but he suspects this is how she managed to get out of the house to come to him without raising suspicion.

"It's a girl," she says, knowing she doesn't have a lot of time, not wasting any of it on small talk. He feels his heart drop into his stomach and lightheaded all at once. A girl. "She's healthy. Born about an hour ago. They're both doing great."

He swallows hard. The smallest amount of relief washes over him, knowing they're both okay. "Thank you. I appreciate it," he replies genuinely. Rita nods and looks at him sadly before turning and heading back inside. He closes the door behind him and turns into his apartment, which now feels colder and emptier than ever before.


	2. for all the things my eyes have seen

_**for all the things my eyes have seen, the best by far is you**_

 _and as we lie here and let the world fade away_

 _the sunrise tries to end it while we try to stay_

He doesn't know what time it is when he decides to go into the house. The sun isn't out yet, but as he makes his way into the kitchen he hears birds starting to chirp in the distance, so he knows morning will be coming sooner rather than later.

It's been five days. Five days since the baby was born, and five days that he still hasn't been able to see June. He's tried so hard to see her, to see them, but Serena Joy was still committed to making it as difficult as possible for them to have any time together. She'd spent her days sending him on pointless errands and giving him projects to work on, anything to keep him away and occupied. And it had worked. When he wasn't doing her bidding, or driving the Commander around, his time was still otherwise tangled up with how to get to Hannah, so he'd had no time to even attempt to see June.

As he fills up a kettle with water in the still dark kitchen, he tries to shake the cobwebs of exhaustion from his mind. Yesterday, he'd finally had his first big breakthrough. Weeks ago he'd rumors of an Aunt that was working to get kids that had been separated from their parents out of Gilead and back with their families. It felt like his best opportunity, the safest way to get Hannah out, but every lead he'd chased to find out who she was and where she operated from had run cold. But three days ago he'd found another lead on her, one that actually led him somewhere. And yesterday he'd finally managed to actually track her down and have a meeting with her. It felt reckless, but he'd heard from enough people he trusted that she was legitimate, so he trusted her too. He relayed everything he knew about Hannah to her and left with a reassurance that'd she'd be in Canada with her father within a few weeks. Now it's just a waiting game. He puts the kettle on the stove and grabs two tea bags from the box where they keep them. He's still got plenty of work to do, he needs to finalize the route he'll take with June when it's time to go, start figuring out where they'll go when they actually cross the border, so he figures the caffeine is a good place to start.

As he waits for the water to heat up, he leans against the counter and closes his eyes. He can't remember the last time he slept for more than an hour, it feels like it must have been a lifetime ago. His eyelids are getting heavier and heavier when a loud gasp causes them to jerk back open.

"Jesus, Nick," Rita says, one hand on her chest, like she's trying to keep her heart contained. She stands frozen in her tracks. "You scared the shit out of me."

He clears his throat and stands upright. "Sorry," he apologizes, his voice rough. She shakes her head and takes a deep breath, pushing past him to the sink. They're both quiet for a few moments before Rita presses on with the conversation.

"What are you doing in here so early?" She asks, as she starts washing the few dishes left in the sink from the night before.

"Couldn't sleep," he replies honestly. "Thought I'd have some tea."

She nods and they both fall back into silence, but it's cut short by the kettle starting to whistle. Nick moves to retrieve it, but Rita holds him back with one arm.

"I got it," she says and Nick steps back, letting her take over. He starts rubbing his palm with his thumb, shifting his weight from foot to foot as Rita glances back at him. There's so much he wants to know, so many things he wants her to tell him, but he doesn't know where to start, what to ask, or if he even should.

"She's up," Rita tells him, as she pulls a teacup down out of the cabinet, and his hands still. She looks back over her shoulder at him. "With the baby," she continues and he stops moving completely. He opens his mouth to speak but no words come out.

"Mrs. Waterford won't be up for another hour at least," Rita says, setting the cup down on the counter and turning around completely to face Nick. He looks hard at her and she nods almost imperceptibly, a signal that it's okay, that he should go, he needs to take this opportunity to be with them. He takes a deep breath and turns to head into the house.

"In the nursery," Rita calls out to him as he disappears out of the kitchen and down the hall.

He navigates down the dark hallway to the nursery, trying to calm his now pounding heart as he comes up to the open door. Inside, there's a small lamp on, just enough to illuminate the corner of the room where June sits in a wooden rocking chair, her hair loose around her shoulders, looking down at the baby as she nurses her. Back when he first found out June was pregnant, he had a dream like this once, and he feels like, at any moment, he should wake up alone in his own bed. He almost doesn't want to intrude, the scene too peaceful and perfect for him to enter himself, but selfishly, he wants to be closer to her, to them.

"June," he says softly, as he takes his first tentative step into the room and stops. She looks up from the baby and her face falters, like she's just figured out how to hold herself together and now it's all fallen back apart. A fuzzy memory of Janine from that awful, frigid morning on the bridge stirs up somewhere from the back of his mind as he looks at her face; he knows how awful this is for her. Maybe he should have stayed away, it'd have been easier. He forces those thoughts away and takes a few more steps into the room, stopping before he gets too close, not wanting to overstep any boundaries.

"Rita said you were up," he says, as he starts rubbing circles on his palm with his thumb again. He doesn't really know what to say, or what to do. He's wanted to see her for so long and now that he's here, he feels clueless. There's so much that he doesn't know where to start. "I… I couldn't sleep," he stammers, and the corners of June's mouth turn up into the smallest hint of a smile before falling again so quickly that if he had blinked he'd have missed it.

"It's okay," she whispers, "I couldn't sleep either." The faint smile appears again as she looks at him and relief washes over him so much that he returns the gesture, the ghost of a smile playing on his lips now too. He takes a few steps closer and as he does, the baby makes little noises against June and she turns her attention back to her, adjusting her against her body. He still hasn't seen much of the baby, she's wrapped in a thick blanket to protect her from the cool fall air, so he finally closes the distance between himself and June completely as he moves to the side and kneels next to the rocker. He gently places one hand on the arm of the chair to brace himself as he gets his first real look at the baby as she continues to nurse.

He can feel June's eyes on him as he takes in all of the baby's features, her head full of dark hair, her pink skin, her light eyes open and looking up at June, and one little hand with five little fingers peeking out from under the edge of the blanket. He's sure he's never seen anything more perfect than her, and he's sure now more than before that he'll do whatever he has to do to make sure she and June get out of this horrible place.

A few seconds pass before he breaks his gaze and looks up at June, who hasn't stopped watching him, her eyes now glistening. "She's perfect," he whispers, and June closes her eyes, swallows hard and nods.

The memory of Janine on the bridge comes back to him now again, but this time it's crystal clear as he looks at June with her eyes closed, breathing deeply through her nose, trying to control her emotions. He wants her to know he's close to getting to Hannah, but it's so dangerous. If something happens to him before they can get out, they'll come to her, interrogate her, and he can't stomach the thought of causing her anymore pain. But he also can't stand to think of her feeling hopeless when he feels so sure there's a light at the end of this long and dark tunnel. He too closes his eyes and presses his forehead against her arm while he weighs his options.

A few moments pass before he decides to relay just the smallest bit of information to June, hoping maybe it'll strengthen her resolve, that it'll be a lifeboat for her to wait in while he makes these final preparations. He lifts his head and looks up at her, her eyes still closed. "June," he says softly, and her eyes pop open to meet his. "I found Hannah," he continues, "I have a plan. I just need a little more time."

He watches as she takes another deep breath, but this time he swears he sees her shoulders broaden as she nods and absorbs the information he's just provided, like she'll use it to steel herself against whatever the world throws at her. He knows now he made the right choice, she needed this. She turns her attention back to the baby, watching her nurse.

"She looks like you," June says quietly after a long silence and Nick studies the baby's face again. Aside from her dark hair, he doesn't see it, but he can't stop one corner of his mouth from tugging up into a half smile at her words, or the warm feeling of contentment that spreads through his body. He rests his cheek against June's arm now as they both watch the baby nurse, and for a moment it feels like the world around them has stopped existing. All that matters to him is here, in this room.

They sit together in content silence for what doesn't feel like long enough, but soon the sound of birds chirping with increasing frequency outside the window, along with the pale orange light that's now starting to filter in through the window, reminds him that as much as it's going to kill him, he has to leave, and soon. He looks away from the baby again and back up at June, who does the same.

"The sun's coming up," he says, an indication that he knows his time is running short, and June nods sadly. He leans up on the balls of his feet and presses his forehead against hers as they both close their eyes, taking in as much of each other as they can in these last few moments together.

"Trust me," he whispers, a promise that he's not going to let her down. He'd asked her to do this once before and she had, she'd trusted him and he'd gotten her to safety. He means it now more than ever.

"I trust you," she replies, as he pulls back and looks at her, his gaze confident. He's going to get them out. He knows it. He takes one last look at the baby before he stands back up, giving June's shoulder one last reassuring squeeze.

He lingers for a second before he forces his feet to carry him away from the chair. When he gets to the door he turns around, taking one last look at the most important things in his life before he has to go out and face the world again without them.


	3. for all the things my hands have held

_**for all the things my hands have held, the best by far is you**_

 _it's all about the first night and last, some people say_

 _i love you so much more tonight, more than yesterday_

It's about two weeks after he got his first chance to speak to June when he gets the news. He's out putting the winter tires on the car when Rita comes out to him, a cup of hot tea in her hands.

"Here," she says, pressing the cup into his hands with a sense of purpose, "you looked cold." He looks at her strangely until he feels the rough edges of a piece of paper tucked between her fingers and the cup. He presses the paper against the cup as he takes it from her hands, careful not to drop it.

"It's a new blend I picked up when I was shopping today," she says in a very practiced tone. "The tea," she continues. "I'd never seen it before. But someone there knew you, said you might like it. Seems like it'll be good."

He swallows hard as he looks at her. He knows what she's trying to tell him. Someone passed her this note specifically to give to him. His heart pounds as he thinks about what it could say.

"Thank you," he says, as he brings the cup to his lips to take a sip. He sets the cup down on the hood of the car, tucking his hands into his pockets, along with the note, "I appreciate it."

Rita nods and looks at him like she knows he's up to something. He knows she's curious, but he's not pulling anyone else into this. Finally after a long moment she sighs, "don't forget to bring that cup in when you're done. And don't do anything stupid."

"I won't," he promises, and she turns to head back into the house. Once she's disappeared back inside he can feel the piece of paper like it's on fire in his pocket, and it takes every ounce of willpower he has not to immediately take it out and read it right there. He hurries through the rest of his task and then takes the stairs two at a time up to his apartment. As soon as he's inside with the door locked, he pulls the scrap of paper out of his pocket and unfolds it. Scrawled on the inside is the date from two days ago, and then beneath it Hannah's initials with the letters CAN next to them.

He sits down on a nearby chair, and it feels like every cell in his body is vibrating.

* * *

The next day he wakes up early and drives himself to the administration building where he reports for any meetings or training he might be required to attend. They get intelligence reports weekly on the names, ages, and locations of refugees that have fled from Gilead, and for the first time, he's itching to look at it. He knows it's so they can try and tighten up border control, so they can figure out where people are getting out and stop it, and he tries not to think about what that means for when he leaves with June. He tries to focus instead on how the report is going to help him right now, by verifying that Hannah is in fact in Canada. He holds his breath as he flips through the pages, stopping when he gets to the page that should have Hannah's name on it. He runs his finger down the paper until he stops on the now familiar letters of her name. He closes his eyes and lets out the breath he'd been holding.

* * *

He tells June the day after that. With Rita's help, he manages to sneak in the house while she's eating her breakfast and Serena Joy is still getting ready for the day.

"Hannah's in Canada," he says, his voice low and urgent, not wasting any time with pleasantries as he kneels next to her chair. He only has a few moments and he doesn't want to waste them. June drops her fork and covers her mouth with one hand, and immediately he sees the tears spring to her eyes.

"Soon," he promises, as he stands. He kisses the side of her head and she looks up at him, still in shock. "Soon."

* * *

As it happens, soon ends up being about three weeks later. The opportunity presents itself when he finds out the Commander is going on a business trip to DC. He's not particularly concerned about Fred stopping him, but one less body around makes things less complicated. He's also heard rumblings about a snowstorm, the first one of the season, sweeping through on the second night of the Commander's trip. He knows that'll make travel more difficult for them, but it also makes it less likely that they'll run into any trouble. Even the units that patrol the border like to stay in when the weather's bad. He's done all the preparation he can, and this is it. The perfect opportunity has fallen into his lap and he's taking it.

The day before he plans to leave, he slips into the house in the predawn hours when he knows Serena Joy and Fred aren't awake. June isn't with the baby this time, but he sneaks into her room while she's sleeping, popping the lock on her door. She needs to know what's happening, and they won't be here much longer anyway.

"June," he whispers, placing his hand on her shoulder. Her eyes flutter open immediately.

"Nick?" Her voice is raspy and confused, and instantly he feels a pang of regret for waking her up so early and so suddenly.

"I'm sorry I woke you up," he apologizes, and June sits up, blinking back exhaustion.

"What's wrong?" She asks, with an edge of fear to her voice. Nick shakes his head.

"We're going tomorrow," he says. "Tomorrow night."

June takes a deep breath and nods. She reaches out and takes Nick's hands. They're in this together. "We'll be ready," she promises.

* * *

The snow is falling heavier than he expected as he looks out at it from the window of a small safehouse just north of the Canadian border. They'd done it. They're safe. All three of them.

A few hours after dark, after he saw the lights go off in Serena Joy's bedroom, he'd crept into the house and true to her word, June was ready and waiting. He'd popped the lock again, and she stood inside, fully dressed, not wanting to spend a second longer in that house. Together they made their way to the nursery to get the baby, and as Nick kept an eye out down the hallway, June retrieved her from her crib as she slept. She wrapped her in several thick blankets, covering her small body completely to shield her from the cold, and then they made their way to the car. Flurries were starting to fall as they all piled into the car, Nick in the driver's seat and June in the back with the baby, one of Nick's black jackets draped over her shoulders to keep them as camouflaged as possible.

The drive had been about four hours long and relatively uneventful. He had been right about the weather, it made it more difficult for him to see, especially as he drove with the headlights dimmed, but he also saw none of the usual signs of the units that patrolled the land near the border. When they'd ditched the car and made the last bit of the trek on foot, he spent the entire time looking over his shoulder, sure that any second it'd all come to an end and they'd be caught. But after a short walk, they'd located the safehouse where they're currently taking shelter for the night. He'd read about it in some of his research, he knew many groups stopped here after they had crossed the border, a small farmhouse owned by an elderly couple who had converted two of their guest rooms to house refugees fleeing from Gilead. In the morning, they'll make their way to the main refugee center in Montreal, but for tonight, they've stopped here to rest. Their room is small, with two full sized beds crammed close together, a small crib in the corner, and a couch that folds down into another small bed. He imagines they can fit two or three groups in here with the configuration they have, but tonight it's just the three of them in this room.

It had been easy. Too easy, he thinks, as he continues to look out the window. Maybe this is all a set up, he finds the irrational part of his brain thinking. Maybe the reason it was easy is because they're not actually in Canada yet. It was dark, how does he know they've actually crossed the border? His eyes dart back and forth as he waits for the black vans to speed up to the house, and instinctively he feels for the gun he's tucked away in the back waistband of his pants. If this is a trap, he won't go down without a fight.

"Nick?" June calls out for him and he turns away from the window to face her. The woman here had given them both some donated clothes to change into, along with some supplies for the baby, and June had wasted no time changing into what she had been provided with. As he takes her in, her hair loose around her shoulders and wearing leggings and an oversized grey sweatshirt he's almost taken aback at the normalcy of the situation. She's sitting on the edge of the bed with the baby cradled against her. She's just finished nursing but hasn't fallen back asleep yet. It all feels foreign but familiar somehow, like a fever dream.

"What's wrong?" She asks him, reading the concern written on his face and he shakes his head, but still starts fidgeting with his hands as he looks down at them. He knows he's being irrational, he's not going to worry her with his problems. Rationally, he knows they're in Canada, but still. The fear is there.

"Nick," she says his name again, softer this time, and he looks up at her. She smiles at him and he feels a little of his anxiety melt away. If she feels safe, he should too. "Do you want to hold your daughter?"

Daughter. His daughter. The word practically knocks all the air out of his lungs. Up until this point he hadn't allowed himself to think of her in that context, he couldn't. But she's his daughter, their daughter. He's a dad. He never thought he'd be a father, and part of him still can't truly believe it.

And then suddenly, another thought pops into his head. He's never actually held a baby. Panic runs through him. How do you hold a baby? Can she hold her own head yet? He doesn't know. His arms feel like they're made of lead as they hang limp at his sides.

"I… I've never held a baby before. I don't know how," he stammers, and he can feel his cheeks starting to burn at his admission. How is he going to be a father? He doesn't know how. Suddenly his fear isn't about the outside, but that he has no idea how to do any of this, that he'll mess it all up somehow.

June smiles again as she looks at him, so unsure of himself. "Well, you'll have to learn. Come here."

He hesitates only long enough to pull the gun out of the waistband of his pants and place it inside the one small backpack he'd brought with him. The safety's on, and he knows there's no danger to June or the baby, but still he doesn't want it close to them. His heart races as he crosses the room and sits next to June on the edge of the bed. He takes a deep breath and one leg starts bouncing anxiously until June stops it with her free hand.

"Hey," she says, and he looks at her, his eyes swimming with apprehension. "You won't hurt her, I promise. She's tough." He fights back his urge to smile. Of course she is. He nods in agreement as June stands so she can pass the baby off to him easier.

"Just support her head," June instructs him as she leans into him, motioning for him position his arms so she can place the baby down in them. He follows her lead and then, before he knows it, his daughter is resting in his arms and June is sitting back down next to him. He can feel June's eyes on him, but he's completely wrapped up in the baby. Now that he has her in his arms, he never wants to let her go. Without a doubt, she's the best thing he's ever held, the best thing he's ever done, the best thing he will ever do. He studies her little face, memorizing every detail, and he feels like she's doing the same as she looks up at him, her eyes open and alert. He's already so hopelessly and fiercely in love with her that it makes his chest feel tight, like it's too much to be contained in him. He's so focused on how tiny her hands are that it almost takes him by surprise when her little mouth drops open, her eyes squeeze shut, and a yawn that feels too big for her little body escapes her.

"Did you see that?" He asks as he turns to look at June, an uncharacteristically wide smile spreading across his face. She finds herself smiling back and having to resist the urge to laugh as she considers how quickly their daughter has already softened some of his rougher edges. It hasn't even been five minutes and already, he's a goner.

"I did," she replies simply, nodding her head as he turns back to look at the baby. June sighs contently as she leans her cheek against Nick's shoulder, reaching over to trail one finger down the baby's arm. "Someone's sleepy." They both watch as her eyelids fight a losing battle with sleep, until finally her breathing evens out and she's sleeping in Nick's arms.

"She needs a name," June whispers once she's sure the baby is finally out and Nick looks away from her and down at June. He knows the Waterfords had been calling her something, but he'd tried his hardest not to think about it, and they're so far out of his memory now he can't even remember what it was. But at the same time, he hadn't even considered that she'd need a name later, let alone one that he'd have a say in choosing.

"You pick." He's so completely lost on the matter that he doesn't even know where to start, and June pulls back from him and looks at him like he's gone crazy.

"You don't have any ideas?" She asks incredulously and he shakes his head. Anything she chooses will be fine with him. She makes a face and then leans back into him, resting her cheek against his shoulder again as she looks at the baby. This time, though, instead of watching the baby he watches June, and the same tightness in his chest from before returns.

"What about Allison?" June asks after a long silence, her eyes shifting upwards to look at Nick. He rolls the name around in his head before looking down at the baby. Allison. It's simple and classic and he loves it.

"Allison," he says, testing the name out, seeing how the syllables feel as they roll off his tongue. He repeats it once more and then nods. It fits. "I love it."

June nods and looks away from him and back down at the baby. "I figure they'll want to know her name tomorrow, we should be prepared."

Tomorrow. He swallows hard. He'd been so wrapped up in now that he hadn't stopped to think about tomorrow. Tomorrow they'll register at the refugee center and soon after they'll meet up with Hannah, with June's family. He tries hard not to think about what that means for him. He only wants what's best for June, he wants her happy, but already he feels like he can't breathe imagining having to be away from her and the baby now that he doesn't have to be. He pushes those thoughts away, focusing instead on the welcome weight of his daughter in his arms. It's not tomorrow yet. They're still here now, together. He clears his throat.

"Yeah, good idea," he nods in agreement and June sighs and pulls away from him.

"We should probably try and get some sleep," she says, looking at the baby who still dozes in Nick's arms. "I'll put her down unless you want to try." She motions to the crib, and Nick shakes his head, fearing he might wake her up if he does it. June stands and leans into Nick again, sliding her arms under his to take the baby and put her to bed. He can't believe how empty his arms feel once she's out of them, and how comforting the weight of her small body against him had been.

While June puts the baby down for the night, Nick gets up and moves back over to the window again. The snow has started slowing down and he can see out better now. He takes note of the two sedans in the driveway, both with their blue and white Quebec plates on them and his mind eases even more. He pulls the curtains closed, turning back into the room. June is still fussing with the baby, situating her in the crib, so he slips out of his boots and heads for the bed closest to the wall, the one he and June hadn't been sitting on. He pulls back the duvet and climbs under the covers, lying flat on his back.

He's just closed his eyes when the lights switch off. He knows he won't get much sleep anyway, he's still too guarded to even imagine getting a full night's sleep, always imagining the worst, but he's completely taken by surprise when he feels the bed next to him dip down as the covers raise up and June slides into bed next to him. His eyes spring open as she scoots closer to him, and instinctively he lifts one arm so she can sidle all the way up against him, her head resting on his shoulder as he brings his arm down to rest on her side, holding her against him. It's been months since they last shared a bed like this, he thinks, remembering that morning before Fred had taken her to Jezebels, when he had woken up and she had been there, how it felt like the outside world didn't exist. He had loved it then and he loves it even more now, how comfortable it feels, like they fit together just right.

He closes his eyes and starts absentmindedly rubbing his thumb up and down on her side and as he feels her sigh and relax against him, he can feel the tension start to drain out of his body as well. As exhaustion from months of sleepless nights finally start to catch up with him, the last thing he thinks before he falls asleep is that it had all been worth it if only for this night here, his family safe and secure together.


End file.
